


Smoke and Ashes

by Melkur_Mistress



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Depression, F/F, Faking Death, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Major Character Injury, Missy Lives, Not a Happy Story, Paralysis, Self-Harm, Twissy mentions, but it ends well, dark themes, struggling with sanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-25 12:42:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15640986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melkur_Mistress/pseuds/Melkur_Mistress
Summary: Missy lies seriously injured on the forest floor - unable to defend herself against the oncoming Cybermen, she fakes her death. When she wakes, she's weak from smoke inhalation and serious injuries from the laser screwdriver blast. She is alone and close to death until Nardole finds her. He does what he can, but without a TARDIS he can't heal her and she's left paralysed. She gets somewhat better, but after time, she begins to lose faith that Doctor will come back, believing he is dead and slips into a dark place in her mind. She traps herself in her own torment, unable to cope with her darker memories and the guilt she can't handle without the Doctor's help, and she falls apart, disassociating from reality and giving up. Nardole comes through, awkwardly, and tries to help her. She finds strength again, and begins to plan an attack on the city's Cyber factories and escape from the colony ship. Will the Doctor find her way back to her?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a happy story but ends positively, it gets heavy where Missy isn't coping with reality, but she comes out of it - not miraculously better in an instant as that would be unrealistic, but she does end this in a much better place.  
> It's a nice ending, but what I hope comes across is that mental health can be misunderstood, people can clumsily try to help through good intention, but lack insight. There's no magic cure, but a gradual learning to handle things and it's not a steady road either. 
> 
> I love Missy, so while its not a happy story most of the way through, trust me that I won't leave her like that, and it WILL end well for her.  
> Rating is for the themes listed in the tags, no smut.
> 
> There is a scene where the aftermath of self harm is witnessed and misunderstood, and previous self harm discussed in another scene. This may be triggering. Warnings in the chapter notes.  
> Thirteenth Doctor tagged but not in the story until the last part.

Fake it. Pretend. Disguise.

Her only hope as she laid in the clearing, the intense pain in her back making movement impossible. As the laughter of her past self grew fainter, so the sound of Cybermen  - clearly far too close for comfort drew ever closer.

She reached into the pocket of her jacket - the movement causing a tearing flash of pain that made her instantly nauseous. She would be totally helpless if they caught up with her now - feigning death was the only way to keep off their radar.

She rummaged around, her fingertips brushing past a broken vortex manipulator, too badly damaged even If it wasn't out of power. She rummaged past the Doctor’s sonic glasses, also damaged by the laser blast. The Doctor had never even realised she had taken them. Finally she found what she was looking for and gripped it firmly as she shifted her arm to pull out a small glass tube.

She grimaced in pain as she used every ounce of strength she had left to bring her arm up, moving the small vial of liquid closer to her mouth.

Eventually, as the sound of another explosion nearby and the thundering march of a Cyber army were almost on her, she stuck the bottle cap in her teeth and twisted it off, spitting it out before putting the vial to her lips and swallowing the contents.

She stared up at the fake sky, the numbers above her seeming to taunt her, if she was going to die, she really wanted it to be under real stars, with naturally formed oxygen to breathe her last breath with. Decades of breathing the filtered air in the vault, and she suddenly craved to be on a real planet.

She began to feel the liquid taking effect quickly and she allowed it to do its work, relaxing into the calming sensations as the substance took hold - her senses all fading as her heartbeats slowed.

She might still die there, but not today, not that moment.

_Faking death - her speciality._

* * *

She didn't know how much time had passed when her hearts began to beat steadily again, and the smell of burnt trees and discharged weapons suddenly filled her senses.

Her eyes snapped open and and she gasped, the feel of oxygen filling her lungs as she took a deep breath.

In moments she was coughing, her hand moving to her chest as a tight pain took hold. Cursing, she tried to roll to her side but found it impossible.

She tried again, the pain from the laser blast now a less intense, but still constant reminder of how wrong this had all gone. She eased herself up and felt a flash of panic at the difficulty she had in movement. It was painful, but no more than expected - the inability to take a deep breath suggested to her that she had probably been affected by smoke inhalation…..but realisation then took hold.

She couldn't move any further. She looked herself over in a rush of fear, noting to her relief that she was still in one piece, but even pushing past the pain in her back, she could not move her legs or hips in the slightest.

She struggled against the pain, using every working muscle she had to try to move - to at least change position and see if she could reach a tree, or anything to give her leverage to ease herself up and help her turn over. The possibility of some movement if she was at least on her front was really her only hope, although the indignity of dragging herself along the forest floor was hardly appealing.

She was too far, not able to reach anything, it was hopeless. She slipped her hand into first one pocket and then the other, searching in a growing panic as she failed to find her lipstick - her only way out. Her movement was somewhat restricted but her alarm intensified when she was unable to find it. With no remote recall for her TARDIS, her final escape plan was impossible.

She lay back on the ground and cursed as she stared up at the numbers in the sky in despair. If only she had had more time to allow her body to fall naturally into a healing coma, but she had to feign death fast and now her natural processes were severely disrupted.

She was well and truly trapped and alone.

Time passed - day and night seemed to roll closely together - her regeneration energy not anywhere close to recovering from the laser blast. She could survive for longer without food but she realised the lack of water would be the issue first. She grasped at twigs either side of her body, searching for anything she could use as a tool, but the charred vegetation surrounding her suggested that nothing she could kill and eat was likely to cross her path. Even the blades of grass were singed. 

She thought about the Doctor and felt a deep sorrow fill her hearts as she contemplated the notion that he might not have survived. She shook her head - no, he wasn't dead. If he were she would know. She was certain that the part of her that held on to him so fiercely - loved him through every lifetime she had lived, would simply break if he were gone.

She would know. He couldn't be dead.

Yet she was still alone.

She was left with only her thoughts - her own mind seeming to betray her grip on sanity with the hardest of memories seeming to swim to the surface. Her regrets swarmed her and she constantly replayed the same scenes - conversations with the Doctor, her tears as he sat with her.

_I didn't know I even knew their names._

_I'm sorry, but this is good._

She turned her head to the side, not even noticing the sharp scratches the broken twigs made on her cheek as her tears fell steadily.

Daylight came again, and she realised the air was beginning to feel clearer, but as she took a steady breath, it was obvious that her lungs were not recovered from the fires that had surrounded her while she lay simulating her death. She coughed hard and found herself gasping for breath. Trying hard to control her breathing, she managed to reduce down to slow steady breaths and stop coughing.

She placed the palms of her hands onto the grass either side of her and dug her fingers into the dirt beneath it. The sensation was at least a change - she considered a real concerted effort to attempt to roll over and move by dragging herself along the ground, but she was too far away from the farmhouse, the lifts would be too great a risk. There was simply nowhere to go if she tried to.

She dug her fingers deeper, mud cracking under her nails. She wondered when the weather control system was set to rain. Dehydration would be an unpleasant and quite frankly, disappointing way to die, but at least it would be a certainty.

She felt utterly hopeless as she looked up at the sky and screamed, her lungs burning in protest until her breath seized and she instantly lost consciousness.

Some time later, she began to rouse back to consciousness at a new sensation - a pressure against her neck. She felt a rush of fear for a moment, before she realised that this wasn't the cold metallic touch of a Cyberman - and Cybermen were definitely not in the habit of checking for a pulse.

“Missy?”

She tried to open her eyes at the sound of her name being spoken by a familiar voice, but didn't manage to see beyond the blurred world directly in front of her when she fluttered her eyes open. The light hurt her eyes and she grimaced, closing them again.

“Come on now, don't do that. You're alive, come on Missy, rise and shine.”

“What?” she whispered through dry and cracked lips, her voice barely audible as she realised the intense pain in her throat.

“Why do I always end up stuck with problematic Time Lord's? Missy! Open your eyes.”

She forced herself to gradually open her eyes and stared in confusion at Nardole.

“I’m…” she tried to speak, feeling herself fading into blackness quickly.

“Missy, it’s a few minutes walk to the access hatch, then I can get you back to the next floor, fix you up. Come on, i’ll help you,” he said, taking hold of her arm and tugging.

“Stop,” she said, the sound causing a throbbing ache in her throat.

“Missy come on you can't sleep here and I'm not carrying you.”

Missy closed her eyes and tried hard to not shed any tears in front of him.

She was Missy, she was the Master. She could hide emotional pain - push her distress away and appear unaffected. Just another disguise.

She steadied her breath, contained her emotion and managed to speak through the pain, her throat and chest so sore that her own voice sounded strange to her.

“You may have no choice dear, I appear to be paralysed.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is 7 chapters and mostly finished, so putting this up as it helps get the story going.

Missy could barely speak another word, the effort had exhausted her, and she had no time to convince Nardole that she wasn’t purely being over dramatic. He even at one undignified point, grabbed her arm and shoulder and attempted to pull her up. She fell back to the ground with a hard thud and glared at him.

“Oh,” he said sheepishly. “...I thought you were exaggerating. Right then, well….i’ll, um...carry you.”

He stooped down and slipped an arm around her back and his other under her legs and lifted her free from the ground. She sighed in relief at the feel of the earth and twigs leaving her back. Nardole held her somewhat awkwardly, but anything was an improvement to the hard scratchy forest bed.

The blessing in Nardole having found her and not one of the colonists, was that he was likely able to walk for longer carrying her. It bothered her that he didn’t make any jokes the entire time, he surely felt awkward about being physically close to her and having to assist her, but he appeared quite serious when she glanced at him. She tried to decipher the expression he wore - she couldn’t quite tell, but if it was anything akin to pity, she swore she would tell him to just put her down and leave her there to die.

When they finally approached a steel ladder, he stopped, “ah, slight problem. This is the way up to the floor, there’s an access lift - it just goes between the two floors but we deactivated it. I’ll try and get it going, let’s put you down here.”

He placed her noticeably gently, down onto the ground in a sitting position, her back against the smooth surface of the wall. She turned her head and watched as he took the lift control panel door off, and started to work on the wiring. She could see at least two alternative ways that he could accomplish it much faster but she felt far too tired to try to speak, and instead, simply watched him, before her eyes drifted closed again.

Eventually she opened her eyes at the feel of a hand on her shoulder, and her eyes, blurry and unfocused, worked out that Nardole was trying to rouse her. He was speaking but to her, but the sound was a distant echo in the hazy tunnel of her mind.

She felt herself being lifted, and then the jolt of machinery coming to life. The sound of the lift whirring as it began to move went straight into the pain she now realised was filling her head. Every jarring movement sending sharper stabs of pains throughout her back and head. She slipped back into unconsciousness, hoping that she would wake up in her TARDIS and put all this behind her.

Missy’s mind became a disjointed hazy mess, fading in and out of consciousness, with voices barely perceptible around her. She was vaguely aware that she was now laying on a bed, the mattress, not particularly luxurious, was still a huge step up from the forest floor. The sharp pain in her head made it near impossible to move, so she succumbed to sleep, her aching head cushioned by the softness of a pillow.

She would be periodically bothered by hands lifting her, raising her up to remove her jacket and tie, place a cup against her lips, attempting to get her to drink. She tried to take the salty water, aware of her critical need for fluids, despite the fact that she no longer felt thirsty or hungry, but her body fought against rationality, her throat so raw and mouth and lips cracked and dry. Her head swam as she tried to focus, but holding on to the fact that she was not in danger, all she could do was give in and not resist the efforts to help her.

Finally she was left alone, she assumed because Nardole or whoever else was helping him, realised it was futile to help her merely with sips of water. She knew she needed sustenance and water quite badly by that point, but she was too tired to care.

Eventually her peace was disturbed again as she faintly detected movement in the room, more than one set of footsteps, rustling sounds and hushed voices. Something cold and wet touched her arm but despite her impulse to move, she barely had the strength to care.

She felt a squeezing sensation higher up her arm, and became aware of what they were doing. She wanted to demand to know if Nardole had the slightest clue about Time Lord physiology - if he had any idea what he was doing, but she realised quickly that her options were non existent and she was becoming too physically deteriorated to utter a single word of protest.

Feeling pressure and sharp piercing of her skin she drifted back to sleep, hoping that Nardole did actually know what he was doing.

 

Hazran stepped back, moving to the sink to wash her hands as she glanced over her shoulder at Nardole. “Well, you certainly did a good job there, You got that tube in easily. How much does she need?”

“Ah, I’m not all that sure - her species, they’re usually much better at healing than this - i’m surprised she hasn’t regenerated - but maybe we just top it up whenever it runs low, until she wakes up and doesn’t look quite so much like death?”

“Regenerated?” Hazran asked as she returned to Nardole’s side and observed Missy with interest.

“Yeah, it’s a Time Lord thing, they go all glowey, sort of change into new body - same person-ish though. They tend to heal fast too - something’s gone very wrong with her…..”

“We’ve done what we can, you did a good job,” Hazran said, slipping her hand to Nardole’s as she inched closer to him.

“She might have other injuries - she probably wouldn’t appreciate me undressing her while she’s unconscious to have a look though,” Nardole said.

“Well, avoid that unless there’s no choice - let’s see how she is in an hour, if she’s awake you can ask her, but don’t force it. I didn’t speak with her much, she was usually off with that other one, but everyone needs to feel some control in their lives, more so when they’re suddenly dependent on others, and shes going to need a lot of help if we can't do anything else for her. You saved her life you know?” Hazran said as she turned to look at him, leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek. 

Nardole felt a flush of awkwardness but instinctively squeezed her hand, he really did like her, and her life would be so everyday and uneventful if it were not for the constant threat of invading Cybermen - uneventful seemed nice for a change.

Much later, Missy opened her eyes, aware immediately of the clarity of her mind - the pain in her head had ceased and she felt astronomically better - she looked first at her surroundings, realising she must be in a room at the farmhouse. It was identical in most respects to the farmhouse on floor 507 - she closed her eyes for a moment as a realisation took hold - the last time she had been in the replica of this room had been with her past self. The rush of memories hit her hard and fast and she began to breathe rapidly as she started to cry. All of a sudden she became aware of something on her arm, she tried to jump up in alarm, not managing to move far at all, but enough to see a makeshift, but functional catheter inserted. She followed the tube but couldn’t adjust her position enough to see what is was attached to. She assumed whatever Nardole had done, it had worked. 

The aching in her throat hadn’t completely subsided and she no longer felt like her throat was burning, but the shortness of her breath as she cried caused her to suddenly struggle as her airways constricted. Feeling alarmed, her eyes widened as she tried to move, and remembered that she had almost no sensation in her lower body. She turned her head to the door, gasping as she struggled to breathe.

Her relief was insurmountable as the door opened and Nardole walked casually in, mid bite of the greenest apple she had ever seen. In the back of her mind she considered their artificially cultivated crops were unnaturally bright, and her tears turned to laughter, this did little to help her take a breath however, and Nardole dropped the apple, dashing over as he regarded her with a slight flash of panic.

“Missy calm down, breathe slowly...err...Hazran!” he called, heading to the door, and leaning outside, calling the woman’s name again much louder.

Suddenly Nardole moved back to her, and the woman from the other farmhouse appeared, Missy didn’t know her name then, and hadn’t made much of an effort to learn it, but she assumed this to be Hazran.

Hazran wasted no time, instructing Nardole in how to open a valve and they quickly put an oxygen mask on Missy. Her instinct was to resist, but she recognised the great difficulty she was having in breathing and relaxed into it, taking shallower, slower breaths until she felt calmer.

Hazran removed the mask and observed her cautiously before giving a smile, “well, welcome back. Must say you were not doing good when Nardole brought you in here. We’ve given you fluids, but you should try to eat soon - there’s soup on the stove, i’ll bring you some. Now, what exactly happened to you?”

Missy looked from her to Nardole, taking in their words, when she didn’t speak Hazran put her hand on Nardole’s shoulder.

“She knows you, i’ll leave you alone - give you some time to talk and i’ll bring the soup up soon,” she said, before smiling at Missy and walking out of the room.

“Well, this is all a bit of a mess isn’t it?” Nardole said. “I take it the other you is out of the picture? Meaning his TARDIS is not an option to get us out of here?”

“Yeah, he left,” Missy said, somewhat dismissively. 

“Ok, and….how did you end up like this? If a Cyberman shot you, why didn’t they convert you?”

“No, a Cyberman isn’t going to get the better of me - he shot me. The other me,”

“Oh,” Nardole said, alarmed. “And...he just left you for dead?  _ Nice _ .”

“Well...I did stab him first, so I suppose we’re even in that respect, but he went a tad too far,” she said.

“You..stabbed him?” Nardole asked, looking quite perturbed.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it’s all a big messy paradox. Where’s the Doctor?”

“The Doctor? He...Missy, I don’t think he could have survived. He would have come back by now if he got off the ship. He wouldn’t leave us here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! He’s not  _ dead. _ I’d know if he was dead - he’s probably just late - his piloting has always been a bit iffy. Or he regenerated...that really gets him confused sometimes. He’ll come back for us - well you anyway. I tried to show him...I really did, that I wasn’t walking away from him. I just hope he understood. Fixed points in time - my own timeline had to be preserved...it’s complicated.”

“Your kind usually are,” Nardole said. “So - is that why you can’t walk? Because he shot you? Just...I don’t know what to do about that...we didn’t really know what we were doing when we put the catheter in you, it’s not like I could Google it. So anything else is over my head. Don’t think we can do much more. But if you have any other injuries...I could...uh….help you?”

Nardole did look increasingly more awkward with each word he spoke, and Missy smiled. He was totally out of his depth, but had come through for her pretty spectacularly.

“I’m ok,” she said.

“Err...you’re really not? Do you have….a burn, or a wound...or something - if you were shot, it’s probably best to check it out?” he said, but didn’t push her when she reacted by breaking eye contact and staring at her hands.

“Ok, look I don’t know how long you’ll need oxygen for - they don’t have much here - I won’t lie to you and says there’s a stock of it. But it’s all that smoke you were lying in - you were there for a long time. Just - try to go easy, there’s only three canisters.”

“Ok, no getting excited then - gotcha,” she said.

“Do you..um...want to sit up?” he asked awkwardly.

“Yeah…” Missy began, suddenly feeling just as awkward as he did.

He approached her immediately, putting his arms around her and pulling her up before leaning her over his arm while he used his other hand to quickly pull her pillow up. He leant her back and she felt instantly relieved to be upright.

“There’s erm….practicalities...a lot of stuff you’re gonna have trouble with...but we’ve put you on the ground floor and we do have a wheelchair...it’s nice….shiny... _ not _ shiny like a Cyberman...just...decoratively shiny…”

Missy raised an eyebrow at his attempt to lighten the mood, and shook her head, “well, that will be something to look forward too then wont it - at least it’s….. decorative and shiny.”

She turned to the window, grateful now to have a wider field of vision, and clearer airways now that she was propped up. 

“We need a TARDIS to sort this mess out - I need my lipstick, could you get my jacket?”

“Uh...I don’t think makeup is the priority right now...you look..fine?” he said, feeling horribly uncertain with how to respond.

“No you idiot, my lipstick isn’t just a lipstick, I can bring my TARDIS here with it - but I can’t find it. Maybe I just couldn’t reach when I was in the forest.”

“Oh...you can do that?” he asked, as he picked up her jacket from a nearby chair and handed it to her.

“Yes of course I can, but it’s really a last resort  - this ship seems to have a nasty habit of snaring in TARDIS’s, so we still might not get off, but i’d have access to my medical equipment and I could heal myself, plus with Time Lord technology we could build devices, get a step ahead of these evolving armies.”

She rummaged through her pockets and then dropped her jacket to her lap, closing her eyes as she cursed.

“It’s not here, I must have lost it in the forest. That is such an amateur  _ mistake _ . We will just have to wait for the Doctor - he’ll be here soon.”

Nardole looked at her uncomfortably - he wondered how long it would be before Missy accepted that the Doctor wasn’t actually coming back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains themes of depression, grief and hopelessness. There is a scene of self harm at the end, and this is continued in the following chapter. I want to address this carefully, as I fully understand how this theme can be triggering.

Days passed and soon Missy lost all track of time. She had relented and used the wheelchair, and had instructed Nardole on some specific strategically placed handles around the house that she needed to move herself in and out of the chair. He put these in quickly, with no fuss or complaint, and she felt considerably more enabled at needing no assistance to do basic everyday things, although flatly refused to go outside - it was too difficult to self propel a wheelchair over the uneven terrain and the last thing she wanted was anyone else having to push her.

Nardole had acted on her requests quickly, using materials from around the barn to make the house more accessible, hoping that the recovery Missy was making would gain momentum.

Before they had left floor 507, she had been obviously torn between the Master and the Doctor, but seemed to fall firmly on one side or the other, until they were all together and she appeared more uncertain than Nardole had ever seen her. Now though, she was the only Time Lord there and had noone to influence her but herself. He didn’t know how she would handle that, and felt incredibly unequipped to deal with her if she was anything other than the persona she always greeted him with when they were in the vault. He knew that, he understood that, he didn’t understand other aspects of her, not in the slightest.

Her oxygen requirements decreased, but still she felt no flicker of regeneration energy returning. It bothered her, but she knew that once the Doctor came back, they could locate her lipstick - leave in his TARDIS or recall hers. Then she would have access to proper Time Lord medical equipment and heal herself. Until then - she just needed to wait it out.

Eventually, time moved on and Missy kept her distance from the household, preferring the quiet of the night, to the endless hustle and clamour of a house full of people, especially with such a large number of children. Their constant questions irritated her and given the average child’s lack of tact, their probing about her physical condition began to cause her to become avoidant. So she kept out of their way and endured Nardole checking in on her frequently.

It would only be a matter of time before they left and her life could return to normal...whatever that really meant these days.

As time went on, Missy stopped mentioning the Doctor - a sense of dread began creeping up on her - Nardole looked increasingly more sympathetic when he talked with her, so she talked about anything but the Doctor. She started to wonder whether he really was dead - even if he hadn’t understood her intention - then he would return for Nardole and the other people - he would come back for them. That was what good people did - he would play his hero role and return, taking them all away from the Cybermen and relocate them on some cosy little planet with every mod con, and probably stay to build them all homes personally.

That was what the Doctor did. He didn’t leave people to await their eventual death at the hands of ever evolving Cybermen. No matter how many they had killed, she knew how many were in the city. Ever producing factories. Not one of them knew how much time they had left, and she was in no position to defend herself.

The Doctor would come up with a plan - rally the people, get everyone filled with what she felt was pointless hope, when they were all going to die eventually anyway.

She used the bar beside her bed to pull herself out of the chair and into bed, managing to turn onto her side with great effort. She cursed herself yet again for not smuggling any useful gadgets along for the trip - she really had been trying to play along with the Doctor’s test.

Sometime later, Hazran brought her some food with a concerned gaze, hovering over her, asking her if she was going to get up and maybe go outside today. The fresh air and daylight would surely make her feel better.

Recycled air, that would fix everything apparently.  Missy imagined jumping out of her bed and squeezing her hands around her throat. But good people didn't do that, they didn't strangle people who saved their lives and tried to help them.

She didn't bother getting out of bed and ignored the food. Ready to throw a glare at Hazran when she came back, if she dared to suggest a picnic in the fake sunshine.

She slept. She knew she was sleeping far more than Time Lord's needed to - probably longer than humans did. She started to dream about the vault, everytime different but with the Doctor as the constant. Playing chess with him, arguing with him, sharing food, the way he held her sometimes in her bed when she was in the throes of constant nightmares. He didn't stay, just held her until she fell asleep. She never asked him to - she didn't want him to see her as any more dependent on him than he probably thought she already was, and she assumed he thought it a barrier they shouldn't cross.

Not that they hadn't ever crossed that barrier in their other lives, but to spend nights with her then leave and keep her locked in there wouldn't have sat well with the Doctor’s morality she assumed. She liked the time they spent together, but she sometimes felt like he thought she didn't have a choice. As if she were joking about her ability to just leave if she chose to.

She was there for him. To be with him. To change for their friendship because she was lost, and all she wanted was to be with him. 

She woke. Still tired, exhausted even after sleeping for what she felt must have been an entire day. She imagined how the Doctor would have been beside her, his arms wrapped around her, their bodies close, promising her that he would fix this, that he would restore her natural healing ability, cure her so she would walk again. She didn’t even mind right then if it were an empty promise. It would give her hope, even for a short while. An empty promise, a foolish hope - she just missed the sound of his voice.

Missy began to feel a deep sense of despair at the realisation of their situation and the horrible possibility of the Doctor's death. The children played outside, running around the farmhouse happily, oblivious to their ultimate end - they laughed and shouted in the fake sunshine as she laid inside, her curtains drawn as she tried to hide her eyes from the light creeping in through the edges. They all sounded so happy and she wondered why - each one of them must have lost someone they loved, someone who cared about them.

Her mind raced, anxiety coursing through her - it had been months by then, and she started to think that he really wasn’t coming back for them. If this was the end, if he was truly dead, then she would never know if he had understood, if he had died believing she turned her back on him. Her head spun as she considered the reality of it - she had contemplated it before, and it never sat well with her - a cosmos without the Doctor. She always thought she would die first - eventually, centuries upon centuries, lives upon lives down the line. Maybe another whole cycle of lives, she had thought she would exist for as long as she could comprehend, but when her end eventually came, he would still be there, somehow, still alive, and maybe he would hold her. At the very end, maybe he would hold her as she died, like he did before.

If though, he had died, then she was truly alone, and she had no concept of existence without the Doctor. No point, no drive, none of the hope that he gave her. No one who understood her in the slightest - no one who loved her. She didn’t want or need to be loved by people, just by _one_ person. Losing him would be the loss of the only goodness she had in her hearts. What then would be left?

“Missy,” Nardole said warily.

She started, not even realising he was in the room, or at what point he had come in. It was strange, the passing of time was skewed - day and night seemed to pass by so quickly that she wasn’t quite sure whether there was some kind of time disturbance going on, or she was just becoming incredibly detached from reality. It occurred to her that she probably was just losing her mind, but she calmly accepted it. There was no point fighting it, reality was hardly an appealing place to be. She had no energy or will to speak to Nardole, so she simply ignored him, blocking out the intrusion.

She preferred to just lie there, closing her eyes and remembering times when she felt empowered, strong, able.  She had ruled worlds, raised the dead, accomplished amazing, incredible things on grand scales that were truly impressive. She was terrifying and beautiful and chaotic. She was the Master.

She felt an empty echo of herself - what would be the point in anything without her friend. She could cope with paralysis, as hard as it was, as frustrated and disempowered as she felt, she would adapt. The death of the Doctor was really the only thing that could ultimately destroy her.

Eventually she began to tell herself stories - imagining scenes playing out in her head - all the ways she could escape from the ship, gain access to a TARDIS, or pilot the actual colony ship. She probably could come up with a plan and have them on the move by then if she had the motivation or will to. Over and over the scenes played in her mind, until the passing of time became a blur. She sometimes noticed untouched plates of food on her table, and realised that someone had come in to offer her something to eat, but she didn’t bother even regarding it most of the time.

Her mind let reality creep in at times - filling her mind with memories. So many memories of the lives she had taken and the wreckage she had left behind in her wake. Death at her hands replayed in her mind over and over again, not ceasing for a moment - her victims haunted her and she felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility, guilt, sorrow - it was too much. If the Doctor was there they could at least talk about it - but it was just her, with her memories, and when it reached a peak there was nowhere else to go. She wanted to lash out, cause pain, hurt, draw blood, but she had no desire to hurt any of the people around her. She was simply not the same anymore. When it all became so horribly overwhelming, the only person she felt justified in harming was herself.

“Missy!” Nardole said, his voice raised, attempting to sound stern but instead sounding incredibly worried.

She didn’t even hear him come in, she guessed he was probably checking on her a lot, but she didn’t even acknowledge him anymore.

“I can only do so much, the Doctor was right you know - you are cleverer than me. So help us. We need you! You’re the only person who has knowledge of Cybermen - the ability to formulate plans and help us, and you’re not doing anything! You’re a Time Lord Missy! Do something!”

Missy ignored him, barely registering his words, her mind switched off to everything around her as she stayed tightly within herself. Hating the vivid flashes of the faces of the lives she had taken, yet not feeling like she deserved to back away from it. Being good was one thing, but how could she ever make her past right. Suffering seemed apt, so she remained in the tightly locked prison of her own mind, unaware of anything around her anymore.

She had no idea how long had passed - hours, maybe days, when she felt Nardole pulling her over onto her back, his voice alarmed and a look of fear on his face. It didn’t take much to unsettle him in truth, but he looked genuinely shocked. She really didn’t know why at first and met his eyes, wondering why he looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Leave me alone,” she said, her voice coloured by exhaustion.

“Missy, what have you done?!” he said, his voice quickly rising into panic, and she realised he looked paler than she ever thought possible. “Why did you do this? I don’t know what to do!”

She felt utterly confused at first until she looked down and saw the blood smeared over her sheets. Instantly she remembered - she hadn’t intended to fall asleep without cleaning herself up, but for one brief, perfect moment she had felt free. Drifting above the pain and torment of her own past, euphoric as she imagined herself dancing in the wind, the breeze moving through her hair as she spun around. She fell asleep happily, without pain for the first time in however long she had been laying there. It fixed her - not forever, not even properly, but for the briefest moment, she was ok again as everything reset itself in her head.

She followed Nardoles horrified gaze, quickly pulling the covers over herself and hiding the gashes and blood covering her arms, and closing her eyes, wishing she could just dissappear.

“Missy…..MISSY!” he raised his voice.

She opened her eyes in response, realising that she was shaking quite visibly, and her arms were throbbing  - a reminder of just how extensivly she had harmed herself.

She realised to her own surprise how much damage she had caused. It was worse than she remembered, but she had barely felt it at the time, feeling too numb to register the pain, and so she had kept going until she finally reached a point where everything inside her head stilled - a quiet in her mind that calmed her so perfectly.  Now though, as Nardole stared at her in shock, she wanted desperately to be able to stand up so she could just get out, run from the room and get away from the dismay he was projecting at her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Nardole misunderstands Missy’s intention, assuming she was attempting suicide.  
> Self harm is also discussed in this chapter, but then Nardole tries better to understand. A recent history of harming behaviour is also mentioned.

He moved quickly, spotting the blade on her bed and taking it, staring at her in shock, “were you trying to kill yourself? Missy why did you do this to yourself?! I don’t know what to do about this! The Doctor would know what to do - I don't know what to do!”

“I wasn’t…” she began, her mind focusing finally to the here and now. “Nardole...I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I just….I couldn’t handle anything, so I...needed to free myself, just for a moment.”

“What does that mean? You’ve properly lost your mind now, and you’re supposedly the most advanced mind we have here so what that means for the rest of us I don’t know. You’ve barely moved in weeks, don’t say you weren’t attempting suicide. You’re plain selfish Missy - you’re capable of defeating Cybermen and piloting this whole ship, and you’d rather just die than help anyone else survive.”

“Nardole, if you know so little about anatomy then I bet Hazran’s not feeling too satisfied!” she spat angrily, incensed by the nerve he had, to feel he had any right to talk to her like that.

Nardole just stared at her.

“I cut. My _arms._ I was _careful_ \- I know what i'm doing, i’m _not_ trying to kill myself. I’m not going to explain it to you when you obviously don’t understand. I feel. Better. It _helped_.”

“You can’t do that!” he exclaimed. “And this was NOT careful. This was...I don't know! I don;t know what to do! What would the Doctor say about this mess you’ve made of yourself?”

Missy laughed sardonically, “well he’s not here, is he? HE’S NOT COMING BACK!!”

Nardole took a moment to try to respond calmly, realising how over the edge she had actually gone, but his own shock was still causing him to raise his voice.

“You need to get out of this bed, take a shower, get dressed, eat. Let me help you clean this up, then come out of this room and _do something._ These people need you - you’re capable of far more than any of us combined, and you’re just shutting yourself in here doing...this. Get up Missy, and come outside and _help_ us!”

She began to get irritated at the way he was raising his voice. “I’m not a hero Nardole, what do you expect from me?!”

“A will to live for a start!!”

“I _don’t_ want to die Nardole, I don’t care one way of the other at times, but I am not trying to kill myself. You're an absolute idiot. I’m not a hero, I never will be and I don’t want to be. I just. Want. The Doctor back.” she said, closing her eyes as her tears fell freely.

Nardole closed his eyes momentarily and sighed, then sat on the edge of her bed, “as harsh as this sounds, you have accept that you're not going to see him again Missy, because you need to get better. Find a reason to keep going.”

He paused and then pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket.

“I came here to give you a picture Alit drew for you. The little girl I saw you talking to on the other floor - she saw me bring you in here and she was worried. She made you a card.”

“See,” he said, pointing to the picture on the front. “That’s you, she seems to think your umbrella is a sword - see how you’re impaling a Cyberman with it?”

Missy took the card from him and stared at it in fascination, breathing slowly as she tried to regain control and slow her tears, “this is...I like it. Why did she make it?”

“Why? Because people, good people, they care about each other, especially when they know someone is hurting. If you won’t hold it together for yourself, then do it for her - she has more of these pictures she could show you if you come out of here - some of them get quite gruesome actually.”

“Really?” Missy asked with sudden interest.

“Yeah,” she seems to imagine you as a super villain who can destroy entire armies.

Missy stared at the picture, “I was though, wasn’t I?”

“Well, you don’t have to be a villain, sometimes the good guys need to do that too,” he sighed, “look, I freaked out, i’m still freaked out - but from the glimpse I had, I think some of these wounds need closing, they’re….deep, and there’s… a lot….you need help to take care of it.”

“I don’t need any help, i’ll do it myself,” she said.

“Yeah, no offence, but you’re hardly taking care of yourself, you don’t even eat. Do you have any Time Lord’y ways to do it?”

“No, I have the Doctor’s sonic glasses but they’re broken.”

“Fix them then,” Nardole said.

“They’re broken,” she repeated more firmly, glaring at him.

“And you don’t even have a _toaster_ in the vault because you can turn it into something dangerous. FIX IT MISSY!!”

She wanted to throw a biting insult at him for having the gall to shout at her, but her mind had started processing his words. Considering what the damage might be, and how useful a sonic device would be about now.

“Look,” he said, slightly impressed with himself for being so bold with her. “Get out of bed, take a shower, i’ll clean your sheets and leave some bandages in here. Then come to the kitchen, i’ll have tea ready, and we can get what you need to repair the glasses so you can take care of your arms properly, and you can work with me on finding ways to gain control of our situation. We need a Time Lord. We need _you_.”

Missy looked at him hesitantly, “ok, i’ll come to the kitchen once i’m dressed. Can you tell Alit I like the picture?”

“No, I absolutely will _not_! You can do that yourself. See you in the kitchen.”

Missy had to admit it felt good to change her clothes - she had changed at some point into some borrowed clothes after she had laundered hers, but she had never bothered changing back. Tightening her corset around her felt instantly comforting, making her feel much more like herself again. It was easier now to get into her skirts as she had learned how to support her weight and adjust her position.

She wrapped the bandages around her left arm first, realising that Nardole was quite right and some of the wounds were too deep. She felt stunned when she surveyed the damage, and a deep flash of shame shot through her.

She applied ointment and gauze and finished bandaging her other arm, feeling disappointed in herself as she pulled her blouse on. She had needed to bandage most of her left arm, and her right arm from her wrist to her elbow, and she was dismayed at the condition she had left herself in. She would need to stitch some of the worse wounds if she didn't use a sonic device, so she had to do something. The pain now struck her as she adjusted her blouse over the bulky bandages. It burned and throbbed and she closed her eyes, considering that it was bizarrely comforting - and decided not to share that part with Nardole for fear it would be taken as further evidence of her losing her mind. He would only freak out.

She finished buttoning her blouse and moved her chair over to the only mirror in the room to adjust her tie. She froze when she saw her reflection and instantly grabbed her jacket, pulling out her makeup bag, and the can of hair gel she had made herself when she was on the other floor. She picked up an ordinary lipstick tube, wishing she had not made such a colossal and ridiculous mistake.

Rummaging through her bag, her finger tips touched against the metal of her TARDIS key and she froze as she quickly took it into the palm of her hand and looked at it.

She had escaped from worse - a decaying body, alone on a dying world being torn apart - she could do this. She could get off the ship with or without her TARDIS, _somehow,_ she could.

She focused on the key in her hand and let her mind come to life, going through the possibilities - broken sonic glasses, a broken vortex manipulator, a TARDIS key, a whole lot of Cyberman technology they were running from. Her mind started to come alive again, putting the threads of possibilities together. Her own DNA, her TARDIS key, she was on a huge colony ship. _Surrounded_ by technology. She could do, far, far more than build a gun out of leaves.

She began to apply her makeup and fix her hair. In minutes she was finished and she stared into the mirror. She felt almost like she had regenerated when she saw the change. She hadn’t realised how poorly she had been taking care of herself.

It wasn't a fix, not by a long shot, but she at least felt able to leave her room. That was progress in itself.

She closed the door behind her, almost hesitantly, suddenly aware that an entire overcrowded household knew she hadn’t left her room in quite some time, but was only met with welcoming glances and smiles. She wondered why these people were so warm to her - she’d done little for them accept use up their resources of emergency oxygen supplies and waste their food by not touching it when it was brought to her.

She made her way into the kitchen and manoeuvred her chair to the table. She nodded her thanks at Nardole when noticing that he had removed a seat to make space for her to move up to the table.

“Missy,” he said quietly. “I don’t understand why you did that, but I want you to tell me if you feel like doing that again. If you can’t do that, just...i’ll make sure you have supplies in your room...I don’t mean anything you can hurt yourself with...just...things that can help you take care of it. But please, just try...you know...not to do that.”

Missy regarded him thoughtfully for a moment and then smiled slightly, “It’s not that simple, I can’t just...not do that. I’m just….it’s hard to explain it. It helped. I felt alive and it...resets my head for a while.”

“Its how long that while will be that worries me….. I really don't understand you,” he paused, glancing at her hesitantly. “Didn’t really handle this too well did I? I don’t do this...it’s not my comfort zone. I probably should have been...more sympathetic? ”

“You did fine Nardole, I would handle it 100 times worse.”

“You...done that before? It’s just...you had to have smuggled a blade in there and you’ve barely left your room…” he said with uncertainty.

Missy broke eye contact and stared at the surface of the table, focusing on the patterns made by the grain of the wood.

“I suppose, if you’re healing like a Time Lord should, then you could hide it easily. Did the Doctor know?” he asked, trying to adopt a more gentle tone now.

“Yeah, but it’s lately really, that i’ve been struggling...we just, had an unspoken agreement not to say it out loud. I’ve never…” she paused, her voice breaking. “I’ve never done anywhere near this much damage before. He always..recognised it, and he stayed with me, till the storm passed.”

Nardole nodded, realising how difficult it must have been for her to share that much with him.

“I don’t have any answers. I’m no good at any of this. Try and talk to me - maybe I can I dunno, distract you? I have my phone - remember those cat videos I showed you that time in the vault?”

“The ones where they sneak up on unsuspecting humans?” Missy asked, suddenly brighter.

“Yeah, a lot of them are on my phone. I’ll pull them up when you need, ok, and we can watch?”

Missy smiled, “look, some of the Doctor’s _friends_ are ridiculous, but you’re quite the good choice. You’re not that useless at all really.”

“Thanks,” he said sarcastically.

They fell into a comfortable silence as Missy began to go through the small box of tools that Nardole had placed on the table, determining what could be of use.

“I hate this ship,” Missy said, idly, her concentration focused on the odd combination of items in front of her on the table.

“Is the vault better  - impending doom aside?” he asked, wondering with interest what she could make with basic hand tools and some random contents from the cutlery drawer.

“Yes. It's at least private, you bring me most of the yummy stuff I ask for, and the Doctor spends time with me….” her voice trailed off and she stopped speaking as her words struck her.

“There could still be a chance he’s alive?” Nardole said, realising he sounded as though he were trying to convince himself.

She looked at him hesitantly, not used to opening up to anyone other than the Doctor.

“I miss him,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said. “He wouldn't want you to give up though, would he? Doesn't matter that he's not here - remember? Without hope, without witness, without reward. You can still be good, do it for him if you can't do it for you just yet.”

“What do you need help with?” she asked, as she turned her attention back to the makeshift tools she was meticulously working on at an impressive pace.

“I  don't need _help_ , I need a Time Lord to lead everyone. Form a plan, save us all. I just do the graft, work on the systems. You take control of things here.”

“That's more the Doctors kink,” she said.

“Well, that aside, didn't you put that challenge to him in the first place? Pretending to be him? So just imagine what he would do...then  maybe, I dunno, add some Missy.”

Missy smiled, his words making more sense than anything had in a long while.

Nardole turned his attention to the girl who had now come in the room.

“Missy, you’re awake! Did you get my card?”

“Yes dear, I did. It helped me wake up for a bit,” she said with a smile. “Hey, i’d like to see more of your drawings...do I obliterate any armies?”

“Yes! You blow them up and build a better stronger GIANT robot that you can control from inside and you crush them all! Wanna see? I'll go get them!”

Alit turned and ran from the room and Missy laughed.

“She has some interesting ideas…”

“She has some _Missyesque_ ideas you're probably best not putting into practice..” he said.

“I don't know….it has given me an idea...lure them, trap them and build weapons from their parts...we need to ultimately get off this ship...so we need to get to the top, which I don't have an answer for yet, but we can lay traps right now.”

“This sounds risky...but I played hide and seek for over an hour yesterday with 12 children and that isn't getting us off this ship, so what do you need me to do?”

Missy stayed silent for a moment as she grabbed Nardole’s laptop, and quickly powered the makeshift device she had put together. In seconds she applied it to the glasses, and after three or four attempts, they suddenly powered on when she pressed the button.

She sat back and smiled, “giant robot - it’s a great idea. As much as i’d love to stomp around in it crushing Cybermen as I go, i’m thinking more of a trojan Cyberman. Giant bomb. Send it to the city - blow the hell out of it all.”

Nardole looked impressed, “what about the remaining ones though?… they keep making them.”

“Oh they wont matter - i just tap into the same system the Doctor did, and reverse what he did,” Missy’s mind started spinning with ideas and plans. She suddenly found herself speaking fast as she tried to get it all out of her head. “Take anything with living heartbeats out of the equation, then we have time to get to the top and seal ourselves up there while they work out what i’ve done. Plus, we arrived uneventfully, my past self didn’t...so I can have a better chance of bringing my TARDIS in from up there once I’ve built a remote call device.”

“Is this doable?” Nardole asked.

“Cybermen are easy to control once you have access to the right systems. ThIs is completely doable. We can get off this ship.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of self harm as Missy takes care of her injuries, but after this it's just a little sadness, so no further trigger warnings will be needed. Honestly I thought this would be good for me to write - but i'm still on the metaphorical forest floor. I considered removing the story in all honesty, because it's been hard to write, but that's not fair to those reading and its complete except for some editing, plus it turns a corner now. 
> 
> I have a much lighter one to post soon then another more humorous one.

Missy returned to her room to treat her wounds, setting the modified sonic glasses down on the ledge in front of the mirror. She had improved the functionality of the glasses impressively now that she had managed to add some upgrades, and she felt a small flash of pride in herself for having accomplished it with not much more than basic tools and the cutlery drawer.

She removed her tie and blouse and then took a deep breath and began to unravel the bandages, closing her eyes in regret and dismay when she took in the sight of the damage she had given herself.

She got to work and began treating the worst of the wounds, and didn’t stop until she had done as much as she chose to. When she put her blouse back on she no longer needed bandages, but the few gashes that remained were much shallower. She decided to just tell Nardole it worked fine if he asked her but give no details. She really didn’t want to talk about it - she hated the fact that he  - not only knew what she had done, but had seen her in such a shocking and vulnerable state. Only the Doctor had even seen her at her low points, and she knew what to expect with him. The Doctor understood her ad knew how to handle it, but without him, she had no buffer against falling anymore.

In one way though, she knew if she ever screwed up again that badly, that at least Nardole might not be so shocked and judgemental if she went to him for help. Even if all he really could do was show her cat videos. 

Nardole gathered everyone outside, insisting that they couldn’t really hold a meeting anywhere else inside as the rooms weren’t big enough for it. She remained at the top of the steps as everyone gathered around. She reminded herself that plans were what she did - these people didn’t know that, they didn’t know if she was leading them all to certain death, of it she was remotely competent. In fact they had far more reason to believe she wasn't all that capable at all. She knew who she was and what she could achieve however, and holding on to that was important. Hypnotising them all to just work at what she needed them to, and get their cooperation without the hindrance of fear and hesitation really seemed the better approach, but she doubted that was generally acceptable.

“I’m Missy, and i’m a Time Lady from a planet called Gallifrey. We do awesome things like travel through time and space and go around having fun, causing chaos that sort of thing. Now i’m not too well vested in the whole saving everybody game, but  I’ve personally controlled an entire planet wide army of Cybermen. So I need you to trust me - even though you have absolutely no reason to, and work with me. We have time moving faster at one end of this ship, and slower at the other, but we can create a sort of tunnel to bypass all that. Then we got to the city, and we build something very very impressive to shut down the factories where they are building the Cybermen. Then we go up - extending the tunnel in front of us, and closing it behind, as we go. Get up the top, call my super duper time and space ship, and get out of here. Any questions?”

The adults looked thoughtful and somewhat confused at the talk of time moving faster, space ships and what sounded like a magic tunnel, but were clearly taking in her words. However as soon as she stopped talking almost every child instantly raised their hands.

Missy pointed at one of them.

“So, you’re an alien from another planet - how far away is it?”

“Yes I am , and very far - any other questions?”

“What do you eat?” another child asked.

She cast the child an exasperated look, “ _food!_ Next?”

“Can we visit your planet?”

“No, it would be incredibly boring. Any questions that are about our actual escape plan?”

She sighed as she saw another child raise their hand, but gestured at him to speak all the same.

“Can you go back in time and save our friends that died, and your friends too?”

She froze, and noticed the glance Nardole cast in her direction, his gaze full of concern as to how she would react. She ignored him.

“No, I can’t. There are some directions that sometimes you can’t travel in without breaking everything else up too.”

Hazran met her eyes and nodded, “i think we need to get to work - just tell us what you need us all to do.”

Missy found it a very surreal experience, that a large group of people were just waiting for her to tell them what to do when she hadn't hypnotised them or controlled their minds in any way. She wasn't sure she liked it specifically - mind control was more efficient, but like Nardole had said - think about what would the Doctor do...then add a touch of Missy.

It took 36 hours of non stop work. Nardole reminded her that her workforce did need to take breaks, sleep, eat, rest, that kind of thing. She delegated the management of those details to him, and it went smoothly enough. The children, she found, did slow the process down somewhat, needing to eat at even greater frequency than the adults, but several of them had began to form an attachment to her that she didn’t quite understand, bringing her things; a flower from the forest, a pretty rock, a feather...even though she didn’t understand why the children kept giving her these things, and seeming so pleased when she smiled and put them in her pocket, she did feel an unexpected sense of affection - people were not usually so affectionate and kind toward her.

She really had no idea why they did it.

Nardole noticed how confused it made her, and considered that the Doctor would probably have talked to her about it when she actually slowed down for a moment. He was completely unqualified to help her - the Doctor really was the only one who was able to.

He made a point of bringing her food and tea, realising that she was too caught up in her work to stop and eat.

In truth it was quite normal for her - once her plans were in motion she simply didn’t slow down at all. Momentum was addictive, and she hated delays.

The tunnel itself appeared more like the mouth of a cave - merely deep enough to house them all if they walked together. She described its use as comparable to a giant hamster ball, moving with them as they moved along, but accessible at either end until it was sealed. They had no knowledge of hamsters whatsoever, so Missy found herself explaining her own explanation, and wondering in frustration, if the Doctor actually enjoyed the delays it caused to stop and explain everything. She was however, quietly impressed with the way they all worked hard, doing what she needed them to do. The tunnel was created and tested in good time and they were soon gathering to leave.

She watched them, wondering why most of them had bags with them. She always kept what needed in her pocket, and had no desire whatsoever to wear a different outfit, unless of course a disguise were called for. She assumed that perhaps it was because their pockets were much smaller inside than hers were.

“Ok, it’s simple, we just move along together - keep walking behind me, and we move down through the ship - it will carry us faster than walking speed, but it is not as fast as the lifts. It’s our own private tunnel though, just us, moving undetected down to the city. It gets a bit dangerous for a while once we arrive, but I intend to seal us all in a building and hack into the computer systems quite quickly. Once I do what I need to, we can move around the city with no risk of harm by the Cybermen - they simply won't be interested in us at all. Then we build something spectacular, leave, blow the city, and tunnel our way to the top.  From there we have time where I can work at getting my TARDIS to us. Now...we can’t stop in the tunnel, so...does anyone need to eat, sleep or use the toilet? It’s just, you do these things with much greater frequency than I do….anyone?”

Several of the children suddenly raised their hands in unison, so Missy impatiently waited until they returned, rolling her eyes at Nardole, who couldn't help but laugh.

She took place at the front, Nardole at the back, ensuring they didn’t lose anyone. She gripped her umbrella, the handle slightly different in the build she had made, but she was pleased nonetheless with her adaptation of the only umbrella she had found/stolen in the farmhouse. She had made a place to store it securely so that she could still propel herself - her accessorising wasn't going to hinder her movement in any way. One of the colonists attempted to push her chair, but she waved him off, realising the etiquette of turning down help was probably to thank the person offering, but she didn't want to acknowledge that anything was holding her back at all.

She led the way and tried hard not to think about the city - of dancing on the rooftop with her past self while the Doctor was tied to a chair. Despite everything, once she untied him, he hadn’t even been angry with her, not with any real depth of anger. He had to ask, had to know where she stood, and she had been nothing but honest - she was confused. But then he held her hand and time itself stopped around her.

She shook off the memory, she had no choice but to push it all to the back of her mind or she would simply collapse. Once she was free of the ship then she could finally stop, let the memories back in, allow her grief to claim her if it chose to.

She pushed it all away - the concept of where she was even going to be - of truly being alone in the universe. Of how she would exist, if she even could.

The next step was the major risk, but they accomplished it with ease. Nardole was quite adept with containment fields so he easily secured the children for long enough that Missy could fix the inconvenient adaptation the Doctor had made to the Cybermen's identification of humanity. Once off the menu, they commandeered a building in the heart of the city - their tunnel temporarily closed until it was time to leave. Missy had tapped straight into their systems and changed the dynamic - the Cybermen, she explained to Nardole, needed something to do. So after setting them all to ignore any life form with one or more heartbeats, but programmed them to start working in the factories.

Soon, all the factories in the city were active, and the Cybermen, a fully controlled workforce. Nardole wasn’t certain whether that was necessary - but Missy was insistent that they needed to be tightly controlled. He eventually realised she was right, but couldn’t help but keep an eye on her operations, wondering if she was going to run off with the colony ship full of Cybermen.

It was instinct to assume she was planning something, but when he saw her head toward the access lift to the rooftop each night, he knew she wasn’t plotting any take over of the universe - she was simply was throwing herself into the work and escaping to be alone.

Their plans all in place, Missy finally slowed down, preparing herself for the next day's attack on the Cybermen. Night fell, and Alit crept up the stairs, realising it quieter than the access lift, pushing open the big heavy door. It wasn't possible to do that at all stealthily, and she was met with Missy, obviously aware of her prescience but turned away from her, facing the view across the city.

“I’m spying on you,” Alit said.

“Yes dear, that’s quite the obvious statement,” Missy said, attempting to casually dab at her tears so that the child would not see her crying.

Hoping she could pull it off, she spun her chair around, “it’s night, doesn't that mean you should be asleep?”

“Yes, but I snuck out. Are you lonely?”

“What?” Missy asked, take back by the question.

“Your friends...they must have died on the other farm. Do you feel sad? I feel sad too - I liked one of them - the other one wasn’t friendly, but I liked the Doctor.”

“Yeah,” Missy whispered. “I liked him too.”

She took a deep breath and turned back around to cast her gaze over the city, “go back to bed, tomorrow we’re putting together giant Cybermen. Busy day.”

She didn’t sleep - it was never something she did when a plan was in full swing. The adrenaline and the focus just kept her going - she tended to burn out after, sleep for days after her plans had played out. This time, she wasn't even sure where she was going. She always had the option of her TARDIS, but wherever she went, she would be truly alone if the Doctor's death was a certainty.

The following morning, she was busy operating a range of complex programmes to bring together the parts of two giant Cybermen. That part was all about logisitics and not all that exciting, but soon the assembly was taking place and the giant Cybermen stood, like massive monuments in the middle of the city.

She smiled, and turned to see Nardole standing next to her on the rooftop looking quite worried.

“Big, aren't they?” he said. 

“Yes, it’s poetic. Make the Cybermen build their own weapons of destruction. Just perfect. But first - i’m going to flip a switch and make everything go live.”

Nardole stood safely with the others inside a containment field, the tunnel open and ready for them to leave. It was ten minutes of waiting until she finally came back to them, her speed impeded by how fast she could propel herself. She dropped the containment field and reactivated once she as safely inside.

“Did you feel the explosions?” she asked, a sudden light in her eyes as adrenaline coursed through her.

“No, the containment field worked perfectly,” Nardole said.

“Hey Alit - got them to do some stomping! And look, they took out most of the city when they detonated!”

Missy pulled out what appeared to be an innocuous mobile phone, and turned it around, hitting play on a video. The children gathered around and watched in awe.

“You, recorded it?” Nardole asked in amazement.

“Well yes, why not!” she laughed.

“The containment field would have caused interference….Missy did you take it down to record this?” Nardole asked, his voice dropping to a whisper but with a clear tone of chastisement.

“I was fine. See, totally unharmed,” she said.

“That, was reckless,” he said through gritted teeth, not wanting the children to understand she had risked her life to video giant Cybermen.

She turned to him and rolled her eyes, “I have to have _some_ fun. Right, through the tunnel, up to the bridge. Then, we call my TARDIS!"


	6. Chapter 6

It was uneventful much to Nardole’s relief, although he noticed that Hazran still seemed worried. It was hard to explain how Missy had gained control of the Cybermen to the colonists, so they weren’t completely at ease. He assumed they would be once they had relocated to the bridge and realised they were safe.

The children were a hive of excitement on the bridge and eventually Hazran moved them all to a larger room, likely used as a briefing room, where the children had space to run around beside floor to ceiling windows with a breathtaking view.

On the bridge Missy got to work, using the much more advanced technology she then had access to, to build a device to call her TARDIS to her. Nardole worked on the ship’s controls, looking at whether he could move it any faster away from the black hole.

Missy didn’t pause for a second, she couldn’t face it - couldn’t allow her emotions to take her over if her memories ran rampant in her mind. An undercurrent of sadness flowed through her, but she concentrated on her work and refused to allow the memories to creep in. She knew that if she paused for the briefest of moments, that she would turn around and look at the empty room, imagining herself there with the Doctor, just a short time ago. She took a deep breath and focused.

Nardole had tapped into the controls, but other than manually operating the flight deck, he couldn’t accelerate any faster from the black hole. There would be a way, Missy would be able to solve it - but he hoped she would be able to keep her momentum going and not crash again. The last thing he needed was to be looking after a group of confused and excitable humans, most of whom were children, and a Time Lady falling apart. He knew she wouldn’t just be ok - she would have to deal with her grief, and she probably needed someone to help her, but it was the Doctor who did that. The Doctor knew her, understood her, cared about her in a way that was obviously far deeper and more complex than Nardole understood. He didn’t know how to even talk to someone who felt bad about atrocities they had committed. Yet he felt a responsibility to her - she had the capability to be a real danger to herself if she felt truly hopeless.

He felt like slapping the Doctor for the giant mess the trip had become. He did not want to baby sit Time Lords - but maybe she could become what the Doctor wanted her to. If she didn’t destroy herself before she could get that far.

She powered her newly built device and activated it, but was met with no response at first. Sighing, she simply continued to work on it, not speaking at all as she concentrated. After a few more attempts, she eventually felt a sense of victory as her device showed a visual map of the path her TARDIS needed to take, using it’s live location. But the pathway was the issue. It would take longer to work on it without risking her TARDIS being torn apart along the way.

She sighed and slumped back in her chair, glancing at Nardole over her shoulder, “tea?”

“That sounds nice,” he said.

She continued to look at him in silence.

“Oh!” he said, “you want me to _make_ tea.”

He begrudgingly got up, making a big show of sighing in annoyance.

“Oh, and check the cupboards for biscuits,” she said.

He caught the way Missy smirked briefly at his reaction and felt an odd sense of relief at the way she had naturally slipped into wanting to boss him around.

She continued her work while she waited for her tea -  she was almost there, but the black hole was a huge problem requiring recalculations and changes. She sat back and sighed, she knew she could do it. She was more than capable, the calculations should have been straight forward, but the damn black hole that had caused so much devastation felt like it were mocking her.

She hated how her mind couldn't stay focused  - she quickly drifted to the last time she had been on on the bridge - she was just having fun, hoping that something would go wrong and make it more interesting. But not like this. This hadn't been interesting, it had been frustrating and devastating.

“Tea your highness,” Nardole said sarcastically.

Missy instinctively went to stand up, then shook her head in annoyance at herself and started to manoeuvre her chair.

Nardole watched her awkwardly, she really wasn’t that good at using the chair to navigate a room. “I could push?”

Missy glared at him and he made a mental note to not offer to do that ever again, given that she now looked like she wanted to kill him. He raised his hands in mock surrender and turned to leave the room.

“Down the hall, second door on the left, it’s another briefing room of some sort, but there’s a big table and I took every biscuit I found.”

Missy smiled at him and he felt an instant relief that she no longer left him wondering if she was going to attack him for trying to help her.  “You _have_ been useful then!”

They sat together, Missy staring in contemplation at her device, while Nardole looked over diagrams of maintenance hatches for useful tech they could tap into, an unhealthily large selection of biscuits eaten and the tea soon drunk.

Missy tapped the screen of her device and sighed.

“It’s all functional in theory, but I just need some more time, we’re in the optimum place for a TARDIS to land - what are the Waltons doing?” she said.

“Some of the kids are tired, there’s no crew quarters on this level and I don’t think relocating anyone is a good idea, so i’ll try and find blankets or cushions - if they have cushions that is. Hazran’s searched this level but there’s nothing of any use here, I might go down just one level and search. They’ll get cranky before long,” he said.

“Cranky children, what fun,” she said, as she frowned, staring at her screen. “Something’s happening nearby….look.”

Nardole stared at the screen as she held it out toward him but just shook his head in confusion, not understanding what she was looking at.

“Look, here,” she said, tapping the screen. “A blip.”

“A blip, are blips good?” Nardole asked feeling slightly nervous.

“This kind of blip is highly likely to be very good. A burst of energy; particles, atoms, that are forming and disappearing - see how it fades in and out like that?” she said.

“So, is that your TARDIS, trying to respond to whatever you’re doing?” he asked, realising how little he understood what she was actually doing.

“No, my TARDIS is still right there,” she said, pointing at a purple dot on the map. “This one is _not_ mine, and it’s heading…. _straight_ here, but it’s not materialising.”

She put her hands on her armrests and eased herself up, then cursed loudly, forgetting yet again that she couldn’t stand and felt adrenaline shooting through her as she turned to Nardole, “push me, I have to get back to the bridge _fast._ ”

He immediately moved behind her chair and maneuvered her out of the room, and quickly back to the bridge. Missy moved straight back to the console she had been working on and started operating functions on the screen. Nardole had no clue what she was doing, it was way over his head, but she was concentrating intently.

“There!” she exclaimed, her breath quickening in anticipation as she turned around and stared at the space were the Doctor’s TARDIS had once stood. "The optimum path, and a boosted route right to it. Any...second...now.”

They both froze and waited, not daring to speak. She felt tears forming and closed her eyes at the distinctive sound of a TARDIS materialising. She didn’t want to open her eyes and felt ridiculous for reacting that way. Her hearts began to beat wildly in her chest, she didn’t want to hope, couldn’t handle being crushed. He couldn’t have survived - but there were too few other likelihoods.

She held her breath, and opened her eyes at the sound of a door opening. Her head spun as she stared at the person walking through the door and coming to an abrupt stop in front of them.

“Missy,” the Doctor said, stopping in surprise as she met her eyes.

“Doctor,” Missy said, with great effort to hold in her tears. “See Nardole, I told you she’d be back.”

“She...uh...oh, that's unexpected!  It's a nice look on you,” he said smiling, before frowning at her. “You’re a bit late.”

“Sorry, slight issue - regenerated and TARDIS trouble, but i’m here now."

Missy manoeuvred her chair from the table somewhat clumsily given her resistance at ever learning how to use it properly, but then moved forwards, her face filling with a warmth she hadn't felt in a long time.

“You’re alive, I thought...but you’re alive, and you came back,” Missy said.

“And you’re here, so you didn't leave with him...you came back too,” the Doctor said with a warmth that filled Missy with a sudden rush of emotion.

“I need to explain…” Missy began.

The Doctor grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of Missy, sitting down and taking her hands. “No you don’t, he regenerates into you - I knew what you were doing. Did you think I would go and die on you though? I made a promise remember, a thousand years - i’m not about to die and leave you alone, i’m here for as long as you need me to be. I’m just, a bit late.”

She brought one hand to her cheek and Missy leaned her face in to her touch, closing her eyes as her tears fell silently.

“Can you take me home now,” Missy whispered. "This hasn't been a very pleasant trip."

“Yes, I can take you home - anywhere you want to go, but I really hope you’ll choose to stay with me,” the Doctor said.

Missy opened her eyes and smiled through her tears, “What else did you think I meant by home? Just try and stop me.”

“I wouldn't dare to try,” she said, with a smile, as she leaned forward and placed a kiss on Missy’s forehead.

“Now, what happened to you?” the Doctor asked.

“Well that's a long story, and i've not been...handling it, but Nardole’s a keeper. That one is definitely an upgrade from some of your other pets.”

“Hey! In the room!” he said. “We should probably add we have a whole room of colonists we need to get off this ship. Missy blew the factories, but we need to relocate them all somewhere,” he said.

“Let’s get everyone into the TARDIS, and once we’re all settled, we can focus on helping you,” the Doctor said, giving Missy a warm smile.

“Do you think...this is fixable?”

“I promise you, I will help you. We will get you walking again, I won’t give up until we do,” the Doctor said.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> final chapter, I promised a good ending for Missy :-)

Missy had tried to stay out of the way while the Doctor took everyone to their new home, but somehow, and she suspected that somehow to have something to do with Nardole pointing them in her direction, she received countless hugs and colourful pictures drawn by various children and thrust into her hands. She felt sudden waves of emotion at their displays of affection toward her, despite feeling it was entirely undeserved. The capacity for kindness and affection that people had without prejudice was confusing to her at times.

She manoeuvred to the console room once the noise and bustle had died down and she was finally alone in the TARDIS. She circled the console, feeling pleased with the control she was finally getting operating the chair now that she actually tried to use it. Eventually she stopped, placing her hands on the console and felt no resistance to indicate a bio lock, just the usual gentle, welcoming hum that a TARDIS gave to a Time Lord.

The doors opened and the Doctor walked in, “Nardole’s staying...he said don’t kill him, but he’s filled me in on how you’ve been doing.”

“Oh, he did. Well, Nardole is a little snitch. Great, so now you know I’m a colossal mess in just about every way,” Missy said.

“The Doctor smiled, “what I know, is how you’ve pulled yourself up from the lowest point you’ve ever been, and proceeded to wipe out the Cybermen and keep all those people safe. I’d say you’ve done brilliantly.”

Missy couldn't help but feel a flash of pride at the Doctor’s words and the warmth of her smile. She was completely uncertain as to how to respond however - she took pride in her own schemes and plots, but rarely saw it directed at from anyone else, least of all from the Doctor - the one person she craved it from the most.

“So, I take it he’s staying with the girlfriend?” Missy said, unable to process the Doctor’s compliment.

“Yes, it’s sweet, she wants to make us dinner before we leave. Might be nice,” the Doctor said. Recognising the difficulty Missy had in reacting, and making a mental note to work on that with her. “Healing you is the priority though, so we could always cheat a bit and jump back here once you’re ready.”

“I’d like that - I’m not entirely happy about him leaving,” Missy said.

“What do you mean?” the Doctor asked.

“The thought of it makes me tense, and feel confusing things - do you think we can work on that naming emotions thing we were doing when we go back to the vault?” Missy asked.

The Doctor looked at her in surprise, then stepped toward her and took her hand, “we can talk about how you’re feeling - but it’s sadness, because he’s been a friend to you. It really is major progress that you’re feeling like this. We’re not going back to the vault though  - that’s not what you need now.”

“I can stay though,” Missy said, realising how entirely vulnerable she sounded. “With you, I can stay here?”

“Of course  - that’s what I meant. You’ve made so much progress, you really have changed but you still need help. If you want to leave, I wouldn’t stop you, but I would like to be here for you, and I would be honoured if you would travel with me.”

“I’d like that,” Missy said, unable to hide the instant smile the Doctor's words gave her.

“But first, we have some time. I said we would be back in a few hours. Shall we see if I can do anything to get you up and about?”

Two hours later, the Doctor stroked Missy’s hair as she checked the monitors, satisfying herself that she was sleeping soundly, and her bio readings were all as expected. Countering the way that the residual laser energy had interacted with the substances she had used to fake her death had not been easy, but restoring her regeneration energy was the priority. Missy hadn’t particularly liked the idea of not being awake and aware of what the Doctor was doing, but it was far more efficient. The Doctor felt considerable relief when she had eventually began to see flickers of regeneration energy on the readings. 

Finally, she had moved to the wound on her back, repairing the damage quickly, so that her increasing regeneration energy could began to work and aid her healing. Not wanting to drag the process out, she gave her a boost with some of her own, and then satisfied that she had done enough, she monitored closely until Missy slipped into a healing coma. 

The Doctor then spent some time cleaning Missy’s clothes and then redressing her, hoping it would make her feel much more like herself when she woke. She then moved to tidy her hair, pinning a few loose strands back, before she sat back and smiled, “sleep well Missy.”

The Doctor worked on making a room for Missy, wanting to create something she would enjoy - the TARDIS seemed to approve, the addition of an entire garden leading from ornate glass doors that the Doctor hadn’t designed was evidence of that. 

She was pleased with how well the TARDIS had interpreted her vision for Missy’s room - which in reality was more of a suite of rooms. She walked over the the beautiful oak piano and sat down on the stool, idly pressing the keys. Her ability was basic, but she could imagine how Missy would bring the instrument to life. 

She stood and walked across the room, pushing open a door and finding the bedroom.

“Impressive,” the Doctor said, as she glanced around at the oak panelled walls bearing intricate carvings. She moved toward the elaborate four poster bed and climbed on, laying on her back in the middle. She closed her eyes and for a moment imagined Missy laying next to her. She smiled.

When the Doctor was certain that enough time had passed, she disconnected Missy from the monitors, and moved her to her bedroom. She settled her in her bed and pulled the covers over her, then sat, pulling out a book and easing comfortably into the arm chair.

She had turned the last page of her book when she glanced up and noticed that Missy was awake.

“Ah, finally! You’re up - how are you feeling?” she said as she stood and crossed the room to stand beside her bed.

“Ok - how did it go?” Missy asked.

“Your regeneration energy is almost back to full strength, I gave you a boost from mine, healed the injury your past self so nicely gave you. You are about as healed as you can possible be - might take you some time to get the strength back in your legs though, but we can work on that together - you just need to build it up by working at it. Ready to try?” The Doctor asked with a hopeful smile.

“I just woke up,” Missy said hesitantly.

“You’ve been in a coma for long enough, it’s time to get up. Come on, let’s start now,” the Doctor said, as she pulled back the bed cover and offered Missy her arm. “What’s wrong?”

“You sure it’s worked?” Missy asked.

“Well, you haven't actually tried to move yet, so why don't we see.”

Missy eased herself up into a sitting position, finding it much easier to manoeuvre herself that she had previously. She twisted to the side, a huge flash of relief shooting through her as she realised she now had sensation in her hips. 

The Doctor moved to stand in front of her and held out her hands. Missy took a deep breath and took her hands, swinging her legs around and inching forward to try to stand. 

The Doctor smiled, “I won’t let you fall, there’s no damage now, just weakened muscles and ligaments that you need to work on - and I mean really work hard on, but i’ll help you with that. Come on, stand up, trust me, you can.”

Missy gripped the Doctor’s hands tighter and hesitantly stood, holding her breath until she realised she really was supporting her own weight. She smiled at the Doctor, “I haven’t done that in a while.”

“Ok, let’s go for a walk,” the Doctor said.

“A walk? I’m not sure i’m ready for that,” Missy said.

“You  _ are  _ ready and you  _ are _ going for a walk, because you are going to be doing this several times a day, every day until you have full mobility back. Now let’s go and take a walk around your rooms.”

“This is mine?” Missy asked, reaching blindly out to her side to hold on to something as she felt the Doctor let go of her hand and move to her side, linking arms with her instead.

“Yes, and it’s quite extensive, let’s go to the garden and take a look,” the Doctor said. 

The Doctor gave her time, knowing she needed the confidence in her own ability to walk again. She took it at Missy’s pace, which was slow and very gradual, but increased in pace as Missy began to take steps across the room.

Her grip on the Doctor’s arm was tight, but she was only supporting part of her weight, and it was a very promising start. They made their way slowly to the glass doors and looked out across the gardens.

“This is lovely,” Missy said.

“I’m just glad to have you back,” the Doctor said.

* * *

 

They returned four hours after they had left, but a mere day since Missy had woken. They walked together out of the TARDIS, Missy’s arm linked with the Doctors, the rest of her weight taken by her umbrella. It felt odd to her to be standing, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to for long. It would take practice, each day until she was strong enough to walk without support. It wouldn’t take long, her body had healed, but she needed to do the rest herself, and that simply involved time and practise. The Doctor however, promised to do anything she could to speed up recovery, and not let her lose momentum. 

“Let’s sit down for a moment,” the Doctor said, noticing after a couple of minutes that Missy was slowing down.

She led her to a low wall, and they both sat down and looked out across the open expanse of the unspoilt new world before them. 

Missy took a deep breath and closed her eyes, taking in all the sounds of the natural world around her. 

“It’s so good to be outside,” Missy said.

“What did you miss the most? the Doctor asked.

Missy looked at her and smiled, “air. The air here is so pure, no pollutants, not stale and filtered. I missed air.” She paused, hesitating briefly, “Doctor, I wanted to ask….what did Nardole tell you exactly, about what I did on the ship?”

“He was very open, but he was right to do that. I can't help you effectively if I don't know what you’ve gone through.”

Missy looked down at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact all of a sudden.

“It’s ok, Missy, I wish you hadn't hurt yourself, but you survived - it was hard for you, but you came through amazingly,” the Doctor said. “You are brilliant, amazing and capable of so much more than you can imagine. You have to deal with your past, as horrible as it is, but you can emerge as a far better version of you. You really can. Let me help you, I wont judge, not ever again, you’re doing enough of that for yourself. I know you can’t just get better overnight from what’s hurting you inside. I want you to _ try _ to take care of yourself, be kind to yourself, but if you can’t...i’m here, always. Just tell me when it’s getting too much and let me in.”

“Ok,” Missy said, as she looked up, meeting her eyes. “I will try to. I might not always handle things well.”

“And when you don’t, i’ll be there. You’re not alone,” she said as she reached over and placed her hand over Missy’s, squeezing gently. 

Missy smiled in response, “so when we go back, after dinner, how is it going to work?”

The Doctor smiled, “Like two friends travelling together? Is that ok with you? I mean I’ll put some basic locks on, but 80% of the TARDIS will be open to you.”

“Well, I shall look forward to breaking into that other 20% then Doctor!” Missy said with a laugh.

“We both know bio locks are pointless. You can take them off in minutes. Shall we just, well - pilot together from now on?” the Doctor asked.

Missy smiled warmly, “I’d like that - you're gonna need a few upgrades though - and we need to pick up my TARDIS, not good to leave it unattended.”

“Of course. So after dinner then, what will our first stop be?”

“Well, if we are going to see every star” Missy said, with a smile, raising her umbrella and pointing at the sky. “How about we start right about there?”

The Doctor returned her smile, “that’s the best plan i've heard in a very long time.”

The Doctor slipped her arm around Missy’s shoulders and edged closer, smiling as Missy dropped her head to rest on her her shoulder. 

They sat together and looked up at the stars, their future’s forever bound together by the cosmos that awaited them.   
  



End file.
